


Obsidian eyes

by LionStar (Mel_Sanfo)



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, I thought it'd be funnier, Not in the Biblical sense., Oh well., Pod is mentioned too!, Revelations., Tagging for the sake of tags., Turned into something completely different.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 13:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12255015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_Sanfo/pseuds/LionStar
Summary: Jaime is on his way North and has an enlightening conversation with a Stranger.





	Obsidian eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ikkiM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/gifts).



> Hi guys! My name is Mel_Sanfo, I am using my brand new Pseud for this! YAY!
> 
> This is the first Fic I have written for the JB fandom and the first work I've actually written in months (writing is hard, yo, and writer's block's suuuuuck!).
> 
> I want to thank Kittles123 for her Beta work. And my friend Masque, who loves both shows and cheered me on.
> 
> I am gifting this to Mikki. Thank you for all the kindness you have shown me, even if I'm one of those that 'knows nothing'.
> 
> Also, fair warning, English is not my first language and grammar, not my forte. So keep that in mind!

There wasn’t much to be said about the inn where he had chosen to stop for the night, yet the possibility of anonymity, since no one would expect to find the Kingslayer, of all people, here, did not make Jaime any less wary of his surroundings. It had already been a few days since he had made the choice to keep as little of his honor as he still had and go North, just enough for the stubble on his face to grow into an unkempt sort of scraggly beard, as much a disguise as the black gloves and decidedly lacking of crimson and gold clothing he wore. Inconspicuousness would be his ally on the trip he couldn’t have imagined himself making only a turn of the moon before. 

 

The fleeting thought that by the time he reached the North he would probably be looking a lot less like the Kingslayer and lot more like the man who’d been let out of a cage by Catelyn Stark, after a year of captivity and handed over to a tall, blond and sourly female warden, amused him for a moment. It had been such an unlikely trip the first time around, now here he was, doing it all over again, in reverse and alone. 

 

Still, keeping to his word, even if the woman who had once been his sweet sister would not keep hers, was far more important than any fears his mind may harbor. Mayhaps, when he showed up, even if he was alone instead of having the force of the Lannister army behind him, and with news of not only Cersei’s betrayal of the allied forces headed to the Wall but also her future plans regarding the golden company, it would be enough for some of his tarnished honor to be buffed in order to resemble the color of a dull and old blade instead of the shine he imagined it used to have when he’d dreamed of being a proper knight; the likes of Ser Duncan the Tall and Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.

 

One of the knights back when the Kingsguard had actually meant something.

 

A soft snort escaped his nose as he took a drink from the watered down ale in his tankard, his emerald eyes scanning the room once more. There were not many people left, most having already moved their business either to the upper floor rooms or to the brothel only a few doors down the road. A lone bard sat in a corner strumming his harp, lazily, with two tavern girls swooning and swaying close to one another. The duo looked ready to pounce the musician while a few groups of men sat huddled around tables too drunk and slurring to be of any real threat.

 

“I have to say, the ambience in this place leaves much to be desired.”

 

The man that was suddenly sitting across from Jaime had appeared between one blink of the eye and the next, or maybe he had settled while Jaime had been dutifully scanning his surroundings. Still, Jaime had to force himself not to startle and choke on his ale because of his appearance. Instead, one of his golden eyebrows simply quirked and he took yet another long pull of the ale before lowering the tankard to the table,  attempting to appear undisturbed while simultaneously clasping his left hand around the hilt of his sword beneath the table.

 

Having stolen Widow’s Wail from King’s Landing made him feel a bit more at ease, though he did think the sword needed a much more appropriate name. Something he would ruminate about during his long journey.

 

“No matter.” The dark haired stranger continued, while resting one of his arm's on the table, the other he had bent at the elbow and the strangest silver stag coin Jaime had ever seen was currently dancing on the back of man’s moving fingers. Traveling by flipping from one to the next and then back the way it had come in an endless cycle. This was a trick he’d seen a mummer or two perform before seemingly making the coin disappear, though the stranger didn’t seen to be going for that act at all.  

 

Even sitting down Jaime knew that the man across from him was taller than he was, if only by an inch or two, with a lean yet strong body under what looked like finely tailored leather and wools all in black. He even had some fur around the collar of his dark-as-night cloak. The man was far more prepared for the incoming winter than most people he’d seen or expected to see in the dilapidated inn.

 

“Do I know you?” he asked, stoically.

 

For some reason the gleaming dark eyes and the smile reminded Jaime of Oberyn Martell. The man oozed charm as wounded warriors tend to lose blood and even though there was an accent to his words Jaime could not pinpoint it as either Dornish, or Braavosi. It sounded like something else entirely.

 

“You do not. I, however, know you!  It is really the most delightful surprise to find you like this. I must admit, I thought you would be slightly taller.”

 

“Do you, really?” The casual tone of his voice disguised the disquiet he felt, and, even though it was a mistake, his eyes moved around the room, leaving the present threat to observe all the others before settling once more on the man across the table.

 

“Oh, no need to worry about the walls having ears and all such things. The men are too far into their cups to notice our little chat and the women have finally gotten their hands on the bard so it’s really just you and me now.” The stranger gave him another wide grin before flipping the silver coin from his fingers with his thumb and catching it in the air before settling his hand on the table, the coin hidden between the wood and his long fingers. “Tell me, which title do you prefer? Kingslayer? Sister-fucker? Oathbreaker? I will say, if I were you, I would stick to the whole ‘Lion of Lannister’ thing. It speaks of such virility, after all.”

 

Dread pooled at the pit of his stomach yet the anger that he expected to flare within did not make an appearance. Why should he be angry when the man had said nothing that was not true? All he had done was admit that he knew who Jaime was very well, disguised or not. The stain to his honor simply ran that deep. Yet, even as he said all of the thrice-damned titles he had collected over his life, there was no real malice behind them, instead there was a distinct sound of awe to his tone, that made Jaime more uncomfortable than if he had been judged for his past.

 

“What do you want?” 

 

Even though he was not his sister’s favorite person he was sure that he could still muster up enough coin to bribe the man before him, if need be.

 

“Me? I don’t want anything, really. In fact, I am far more interested in what you want!” The stranger replied, his grin widening as he leaned forward on the table. “Things are getting a bit too chilly for my taste around Westeros, so I will be taking a much needed holiday. It really is a rather fortunate coincidence that I should find someone as interesting as you before leaving the Seven Kingdoms. I do so hate boredom while traveling.”

 

“A most heinous travesty, boredom.” He replied.

 

“I know! I have heard Dorne is beautiful around this time and the people there are just so damned free-spirited when it comes to their fucking. Mmm, it will be a refreshing change of pace for me. A detour to Volantis might be in order as well. Heard there was a lot happening there, so exciting,” he offered jovially. “But enough about me. As I said before, I am rather interested in you.”

 

“Why me?” He had to force the words past tightly gritted teeth.

 

“Well, is it not obvious? You are quite a fascinating fellow!” the stranger offered happily, his obsidian eyes glinting. “So many people have made you the villain of so many different stories, have they not? But we both know there is more to you, isn’t there?”

 

“What ever you may think, let’s make something exceptionally clear. You don’t  _ know  _ me.” he said, placing his gloved golden hand on the table in order to push up and leave the stranger’s company. But when then the man’s eyes flashed like the heated ambers of a hearth Jaime froze in place; partially in terror and partially in disbelief at what he was seeing.

 

“I would stay seated, if I were you, Ser Jaime. No need to get your lion’s fur singed, now is there?” 

 

Though he had received far worst threats in his life Jaime found himself obeying. Yes, he was frightened but a part of him was also curious. Was this man one of the red god’s followers? A magic wielder or some sort? Part of his mind recoiled at that. No, there was much more to this man than being a red priest. Something primal and powerful…

 

“Who are you?”

 

There was only a slight smile in answer from the other man while his eyes burned like the gates of one of the seven hells, blazing with fire and coal.

 

“I think I know you pretty well. In fact, you and I have quite a lot in common,” he said while blinking away the fiery orange from his eyes and making them black once more. “Cast into the role of the bad guy in a mummer’s performance, simply because you did not do as your overbearing father wanted you to? Does it sound at all familiar to you?” he asked.

 

“So many strings and knots of deceit, love and treachery tugging you in different directions until you existed in a world where there was really no right or wrong, just what needed to be done. Blurring the lines till you were unsure which side you really stood on. And to make matters worse, the people who should have loved you had nothing but crumbs of affection to give along with abuse that tasted of honey while those who should have been nothing to you taught you more about actual brotherhood, honor and real feelings, albeit with bitter doses of antidote, than anyone else in the world.” The stranger’s words were a battering ram to his chest. 

 

His heart was working thrice as fast as it should have been within his body and there was a light layer of perspiration on the palm of his working hand, within the glove. The hairs in the back of his neck and his arms stood at attention now and his green gaze was unable to tear away from the stranger spitting truths before him.

 

“You see, I am in the business of punishment, as it were.” The man continued, as if his eyes had not changed color and turned into the Stranger’s for a few moments, as if everything he was saying had no effect in the very core of who Jaime was as a person.

 

“You are an assassin then,” Jaime managed to grind out, his throat feeling incredibly dry.

 

And if that was the case, if the man had been sent by someone to make Jaime meet the Stranger’s embrace, then he saw very little reason why to keep holding onto the hilt of his sword. Instead he picked up the tankard once more and took a long drink, keeping his eyes on the man across from him, who once again seemed rather amused.

 

“I think we both know that is not the case here, but I also know that the human mind is a rather fragile thing so if that is what you need to believe in order to not get up from this table screaming like a madman then you can believe so, if you wish. What is a little bit of denial between friends?”

 

He knew. As surely as he knew his eyes were green and his golden hair was now streaked with silver, there was no doubt in his mind. The unshakeable feeling of witnessing something that was not for mortal eyes sent a cold shiver down his spine. 

 

“What do you want then? Have you come to collect me personally?” 

 

It was a valid question. After all, he had cheated the Stranger enough times that maybe, just maybe, the god felt the need to come get him himself. Even if Jaime had never really believed in the gods after his mother’s death, the man, or rather the thing that passed as a man, before him, certainly was not part of the mortal world.

 

“Luckily for you, I am off duty, as it were,” the man offered with another dazzling smile. “Don’t really do the collecting either, actually, but you would, more than likely, be a special case when the time comes so who knows? Perhaps we will meet again at some point, but for now? No, no. As it stands, you are at a fork in the proverbial the road and our meeting, though purely coincidental, gives me the chance to take a peek into your most inner desire now that you have changed.” He explained.

 

“Changed?” Jaime asked with a scowl, not liking where this conversation was going at all. 

 

That was a path he did not want his mind to slip towards, especially in the presence of the creature across from him.

 

“Well, of course. Before, it would have been easy to guess what your deepest desire was! You made it pretty clear. Left no challenge or fun to it, really. All of your choices and actions had but one single point in common. But now,” he said with a chuckle. “Now, you have cut yourself free, not only from quite possibly the most poisonous environment in the Seven Kingdoms but also gotten out of the clutches of your main abuser. If nothing else congratulations should be in order. Not all victims are are able to do such a thing.”

 

“I am not a victim,” he growled lowly, irked by the accusation.

 

“Now, now, no need to bristle,” the man said leaning back and pocketing the silver coin with a quick sleight of hand. “There is no shame in being a victim, even less so if you managed to survive through the ordeal. In fact, the only reason I have no personal interest in making your life a living hell, as of right now, is that you have survived and were changed by it,” he admitted. “Take it from someone who has had love try to snuff out every bit of choice, free will and common sense from their lives. Leaving, even if it feels a selfish choice now, was the best course of action.”

 

“Not much change then, is there?” He asked with a smirk. “I have been selfish my whole life,” he admitted with a snort, taking another drink from his tankard.

 

“Hmm, yes. And yet you are headed North, leaving all you ever fought for and wanted behind,” the man offered thoughtfully. “Not that I have any room to judge, obviously, but perhaps we should make a list. Prideful, conceited, arrogant. We really could go on but the question is, were you selfish, or were you made to believe, all along, that you were selfish?” he asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I am not absolving you of, any or all, the horrible deeds you have done due to the misguided thought that it was you and her against the world. Absolution is not really my area, after all. Having gone through something similar myself, though, I have to ask. Have you considered just how far back her manipulation really goes?”

 

“Even when you were children she wanted to be you and not herself. She wanted the armor, the swords, the fighting yard and the power instead of the gowns and jewels. You have gathered as much. She couldn’t have it, thanks to the formerly addressed over-involved father, and so she made sure that she had it through you, because in her mind she was you, just in a different body, wasn’t she?”

 

“Control and power are far too enticing notions to some people, you see. First borns are quite attached to their positions and what they tend to mean. So she molded you as best she could, made sure that you would do anything and everything in order to please her. Just how much of it was something you wanted to do and how much was something she wanted you to do but made you think otherwise? The boring stuff, duty, service, becoming a true knight and such; that was all you. You have the stink of honor all over you, even now.”

 

“But then, the the real fun began! When she lost her shot at power with the fallen white-haired prince. She had to reel you back in then, didn’t she? Lest she lose her most trusted project. So you wore the white, some of it was for you but mostly for her, in order to stay close and make her love you again, because you had almost lost her once and didn’t know what you would do if that came to happen in truth. Then the boar king happened and all the scheming that came with it, behind closed doors. All the while, you were serving her but was it really  _ your own  _ desires that forced your choices?”

 

A cold sweat had broken all over Jaime. His tankard had gone dry from his drinking and all he could feel was the blood rushing through his body, muffling the sounds of the inn. This, everything the Stranger said, was what he had feared. That it had all been a game, from the very beginning. He had been a player demoted to pawn when his twin’s horizons had broadened to new possibilities of power that went far beyond him.

 

Could it truly be that he had been what Tyrion had said all along? A fool for love? Completely blinded from the moment they left the womb together? Believing her pretty lies and sweet tasting poison until the Jaime he wanted to be gave way to the Jaime she wanted, if only for short intervals? Had his life ever been his own?

 

It was Cersei. Always. What she wanted. What pleased her. Saving her. Saving her children. Cersei. Cersei.  _ Cersei _ and the promised love that was never real. He wanted to roar his anger but instead he tightened his hold on the empty tankard. It had always been her...until it wasn’t. It had taken a year of captivity and a long journey for him find a sliver of himself and blue, so much blue...

 

“All of that is neither here nor there now,” the man was saying, leaning forward once more with another smirk. “You will have plenty of time to ruminate over everything during your travels. What I would like to know, as I said, is what is it that you desire now?”

 

There was a pull unlike anything he had ever felt before and his whole body seemed to stiffen because of it. It was more powerful than what he’d ever felt for Cersei, stronger than his will to become a knight when he was younger. It was as if his very soul wanted to unburden under the gaze of the Stranger before him. The turmoil of his thoughts lulling, somehow, to nothingness aside from wanting to speak the truth of what his desire was.

 

“I…”

 

“Come on, now. No need to be shy, Ser Jaime. I am most curious.” The stranger urged with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

 

What did he want? He wanted to turn back time, to undo some of the mistakes he had made throughout his life. He wanted the ability to see his sister for what she was way before things had come to a head…

 

“I want... Sapphires.”

 

The vehemence of the single last word to the statement snapped him out of the trance and he reeled back shaking his head before turning his wildfire green eyes towards the man, who looked positively giddy.

 

“Ooh, you cheeky boy!” The Stranger offered with a smile that showed so many teeth he might as well had been a creature from the dark depths of the sea. “And here I thought you were much more of a garnet or emerald type of man,” he said and then stood abruptly from the bench he’d occupied. “Better get on that, then.” he added pointedly looking over Jaime’s shoulder towards the main door of the inn, before turning on his heel and walking away.

 

The whole exchange could not have taken more than a few minutes. He kept his gaze on the man as he disappeared down one of the halls, possibly headed for a back exit of the inn, and while his green eyes were busy, a tall figure clad in dark colors with a shocking mop of straw-like blonde hair made its way into the inn, heavy boots clomping on the wooden floors. Her dark grey cloak, the very same he had seen her wear in King’s Landing, waving behind her person as she passed him by while talking with her squire.

 

He was off of the bench before his brain could process his choice, his feet carrying him with renewed energy. His good hand grasped at the elbow of her sword arm and turned her towards him.

 

And there they were. The bluest, most astonishing sapphires he had ever witnessed, widened in both surprise and anger at having been touched without consent before the look softened to simple surprise and confusion.

 

“Ser Jaime?”

 

“Get a single room for young Pod. You and I, we have quite a lot to discuss,” he said.

 

In his mind’s eye he could see himself wrapping his right arm around her waist and anchoring her to him with his golden hand while tipping his head up to crash his lips to hers, finally allowing the desire that had bubbled to the surface since the baths of Harrenhal to boil free. But he knew that would cause confusion and wariness on her part, and for the many things he had to tell the woman before him, he needed her with a clear and open mind.

 

He consoled himself with the thought that they had time.

 

Maybe, just maybe, if the gods were good, she would allow him to travel with her North. If not, he would follow her anyways, because he was sure that she had missed the banter between them. The gods knew he had. And if they happened to find a willing septon or an available Godswood on the way, after he had quite possibly grovelled and used all of the charm his words could possess, he would finally start getting his life set to rights. 

 

Beginning with the admittance that he had given his heart to the keeper of his honor, long ago.

 


End file.
